


the godson

by bluebeholder



Series: the accidental epic [47]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Angst, Team as Family, but here we are, never thought i'd use that tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 03:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15922241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: Tina and Newt have a child. The whole family is together again to meet him.And there are changes on the horizon.





	the godson

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of feels, themes, and tying up some loose ends. Enjoy!

“Was that room even there last time?” Jacob asks, peering through the doorway. “Can’t believe how fast things change.”

“You know what I can’t believe? That I never bothered to learn a Levitating Charm,” Credence grumbles, hands wrapped around the handle of Queenie’s trunk. “ _Move_.”

“Thank Newt for the room, he made it out of a closet three months ago,” Graves says to Jacob, stepping out of the way as Credence hauls Queenie’s trunk inside.

Credence drops the trunk with a groan and comes back out, massaging his hands. “You know what else I can’t believe? That you all made me carry the luggage because I’m _young_ and _strapping_.”

“You’re both of those things,” Graves says, unable to avoid a smirk. He can _personally_ attest to the ‘strapping’ part of that description. Credence turns slightly red. There’s a particular incident involving a broken table and a distinct lack of clothes that Graves _knows_ they’re both thinking about.

Judging from his grin, Jacob didn’t miss the innuendo. “At least you didn’t have to help Queenie pack everything,” he says, rescuing Credence from his embarrassment.

“You brought an entire house!” Credence says. “I thought you were joking about staying for a month…how exactly is your bakery going to stay afloat?”

“It’s amazing how much house elves help in running a business,” Jacob says. “They’re just swell. I trust them all the way.”

Queenie appears at the end of the short hallway and waves. “Come on, boys! Dinner’s ready!”

“Go on, we’ll join you in a moment,” Graves says. Jacob gives him a knowing look and heads off to join Queenie in the kitchen. Graves turns to Credence. “Are you sure you’ll be all right with everyone being here for a month?”

“Of course,” Credence says with a smile. He leans forward and drapes his arms over Graves’ shoulders. “I mean, if you’re hoping for more table-breaking activities, I don’t think we should do that while everyone else is in the house.”

“We’ll wait until they all go out,” Graves says, reaching up to brush the hair out of Credence’s eyes, conveniently running a thumb over Credence’s lips as he does. “And then…”

They’re interrupted by Queenie shouting from the kitchen, “I can hear you both from here, and I _don’t_ want to hear any more!”

Credence laughs, shameless, and pulls Graves down the hallway to the kitchen. They eat dinner, the four of them, and talk about what they’ll do when Newt and Tina arrive tomorrow. Queenie and Jacob had been with them in England, of course, but had come ahead to help Graves and Credence get the house ready for the impending crowd. It won’t be just the six of them: there will be a seventh. Tina and Newt have just had their first child, and, in Tina’s words, “It wouldn’t be right not to have him around his _whole_ family for a while.” Newt and Tina have been spending time bonding with their son for the last month, and now that the baby is safe to travel, they’ll be coming here at last.

The next morning comes with Queenie practically dragging Credence out of bed—he’s a notoriously late sleeper, a penance paid for those midnight writing sessions of his. Graves has been up for hours, drinking coffee and catching up with Jacob. There’s a last-minute shuffle of clearing Credence’s plants from the rest of the chairs and hurriedly shelving the last of the loose books, and then suddenly Newt and Tina are at the doorstep.

Tina pitches herself over the threshold, throwing her arms around Graves and Credence at the same time, talking a blue streak. Newt’s right behind her, a small, blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms, smiling so wide that it’s like the sun coming into the house.

“Meet Theseus Scamander the Second,” Newt says proudly, as virtually everyone crowds in to look at the sleeping baby. He’s still at the small and squashy side of things, though he has more hair than any baby has any right to.

“Looks exactly like his dad,” Queenie says.

“No, I think he looks like Tina,” Jacob says.

Credence, when Graves looks at him, has a strange expression on his face. “He’s so small,” he says at last, very quietly.

Queenie looks at him and her smile turns into a look of sadness. She glances at Graves—oh, there’s going to be a conversation later, isn’t there? He nods, but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge the look. “Congratulations,” he says to Tina and Newt instead.

Tina, arm around Newt, leans in to press a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “He’s wonderful,” she says softly, every inch the adoring mother.

“Let’s get everyone to sit down for a bit, yeah?” Jacob says. He steers Tina toward the sitting room. Newt handily passes baby Theseus over to her before pulling Credence off to the side, asking him about his plants, and Credence immediately turns his attention to talking about them. Pickett abandons Newt to scramble onto Graves’ hand to say hello, chattering at him incomprehensibly in the language of the Bowtruckles. Queenie’s laughter, happy and free, seems to fill the whole house.

After a few minutes of minor chaos, they’re all situated in the sitting room. Through judicious application of Shrinking Spells, Graves moved the other sofa from the study in here last week. Queenie and Jacob sit side by side on one sofa, Tina and Graves on the other, and Newt and Credence sit on the floor. Well—Newt is sitting. Credence is lounging, long limbs going everywhere, propping himself up on his elbows.

They have to catch up with each other: it’s been almost two years since they were all together at the same time. They’ve been together in pairs and trios and quartets, in various iterations, but not as the whole group. They all have stories and adventures, all of which need to be told and retold and thoroughly enjoyed. It’s good to be together again, as if the world has fallen back into its right place.

Finally, after Tina and Newt have exchanged several significant looks and Queenie has coughed pointedly a few times, everyone looks at Credence and Graves.

“Credence, would you like to hold Theseus?” Tina asked.

“Er—yes? Do you trust—”

Newt takes the baby from Tina and helps Credence maneuver himself so he’s holding Theseus adequately. The baby stirs fitfully and lets out a little whimper that clearly spooks Credence, but he doesn’t wake properly. “Of course we trust you,” Newt says firmly. “And that’s why we have a question for you and Percival.”

Graves blinks. “Both of us?”

“Yes,” Tina says, a familiar look of bullheaded determination on her face. “Look. You two are our family. If push comes to shove, Graves, you’re the one we want taking care of us.”

“And Credence is the gentlest, kindest person we know,” Newt says, nudging Credence’s shoulder with his own. “So—we wanted to know if you two would consent to be Theseus’ godparents.”

It feels like Graves has been punched. In a good way, but the air is knocked out of him all the same. “ _Godparents_?”

“ _Me_?” Credence’s eyes look like they’re going to fall out of his face.

“If something—Merlin forbid—ever happened to Newt and I, there wouldn’t be anyone else we’d want taking care of Theseus,” Tina says. She reaches out and squeezes Graves’ hand tightly.

“But—Queenie and Jacob—” Credence starts to object.

“You two aren’t _outlaws_ ,” Graves points out to them, sense starting to reassert itself.

Queenie smiles at him. “But Jacob and I have talked about it a lot, and we aren’t cut out to be parents, not really. Not yet.”

“I don’t think we’d do right by the kid, not when we’re still getting our feet under us with the bakery,” Jacob says. He smiles fondly at Theseus, who Credence is holding like he’s made of glass. “I’ll be happy to be the kid’s uncle.”

“And we all know that you’re a father at heart,” Tina says warmly, still holding Graves’ hand. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have protecting my son.”

Graves finally finds his voice properly. “Of course I’m willing to be Theseus’ godfather,” he says, and if he’s a little choked up; well, no one is going to say anything right now.

“Credence?” Newt asks gently.

Looking down at Theseus with what has to be the softest expression he’s ever worn, Credence says, “Of course I’ll do it.”

Later, when everyone has gone off to bed after much toasting and happiness, Graves decides it’s time for a serious conversation. He and Credence need to talk about whatever that was earlier, about whatever had set him off. He doesn’t want to—the mood is good for now—but it’s necessary.

Credence comes in a bit late, fresh ink stains on his fingers. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I got lost writing again.”

“It’s fine,” Graves replies. He’s already in bed, reading, but he sets aside the book and holds out an arm, an invitation. Credence makes a slight face, because he knows what’s coming and he never likes having conversations like this. But he comes over and sits down anyway, curling up against Graves.

“It’s really stupid,” Credence warns, folding his arms.

Graves gives him a sideways look.

“Oh, all right,” Credence says. He pauses for a long moment, and then says, “He’s so little.”

“Babies generally are.”

Credence sighs, but the way he shudders and the way that his shadow swells says that there’s more here than meets the eye. “I just,” he says, “couldn’t help thinking about…God, I can’t imagine ever laying hands on him. _Hurting_ him.”

There’s a ghost in the room, a hateful ghost with a belt in her hand, still not quite exorcised. “You wouldn’t do that,” Graves says, carding a hand through Credence’s hair.

“I wouldn’t,” Credence says, “but…” He stops and his shadow shifts, the Obscurus murmuring with distress.

“We’ll make sure that Theseus _never_ has to endure that,” Graves says gently. “You know that.”

Credence doesn’t answer. His arm, where it’s draped across Graves’ midsection, tightens almost imperceptibly. Someone else might try to say something. But Graves is very used to reading Credence’s moods, and right now what Credence needs is to simply be held and reminded that he isn’t alone. Graves might not actually be able to pull him out of the darkness—and Credence’s God knows he’s tried—but he can at least be there, so Credence doesn’t have to be alone in it.

And by the next morning, Credence is smiling again, even if his eyes are a bit red. No one comments on it, though Jacob goes out of his way to sit on the sofa beside Credence with an arm around his slim shoulders, and Tina is unusually solicitous of him. It’s good, and Graves is reminded again just how much he loves these people.

Newt convinces Graves to hold Theseus, and he suddenly finds himself with his—his _godson_ in his arms. And _what_ are Newt and Tina doing, asking _him_ to be Theseus’ godfather? He’s well aware of what that title means. He’ll be a mentor, a moral example, a confidant as Theseus gets older, and even—should something happen to Newt and Tina—perhaps a _parent_. He is _none_ of these things.

“Honey,” Queenie says, coming up behind him and gently rubbing his back, “you’re overthinking this. You’ve been three of those things for _all_ of us, and you did just fine.”

Since Newt has stepped away a little, pulled away by the ever-blessed and perceptive Tina, Graves feels a little freer to speak. “You’re adults,” he says quietly. “You didn’t need much.”

Queenie sighs. “You still don’t see it, do you? Even after all this time.”

“Enlighten me,” Graves says, looking down at Theseus, who is sleeping quite soundly. At least Graves seems to be competent at holding babies.

“You saw us when no one else really did,” Queenie says. “Of course we saw each other, but there’s something to be said for someone strong taking notice of the good parts of you.”

He’s about to respond, but Queenie overrides him. “We looked up to you, Percival,” she says, hand still resting on his back. “We still do. And when Theseus grows up, he will too.”

And because Graves trusts Queenie, he doesn’t argue with her. Instead, he hands Theseus back to Newt, commenting on Theseus’ looks and how much he resembles his father already. Newt turns red and stammers: “No—no, he looks just like Tina, not like me—”

Tina laughs. “He doesn’t look like me at all. I guess his hair’s dark, though,” she says, smoothing back the baby’s hair. “He might just end up looking like his namesake.”

“You know,” Graves says, “for all I hear about this legendary Theseus Scamander, I still have yet to meet him.”

“I’d really like you to meet him,” Newt says thoughtfully. “I suspect you’d very much get along.”

“Yeah, they’re birds of a feather,” Jacob says.

From the door of the kitchen, Graves sees Credence giving him a meaningful look, eyebrows raised. Graves nods, and Credence says, “Percival and I have been talking.”

Tina turns around from the window. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Credence says. “About…maybe…”

He stops talking, biting his lip, nervous. Graves picks up the thread. “That maybe, since the Ministry has finally let up on Credence, it’s time for us to talk about moving to England.”


End file.
